


Inner Feelings

by Slaskia



Series: A Trandoshan's Tale [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-22
Updated: 2005-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Trandoshan discovers the hard way that percepations of his people by others is not always in line with what's under the mask of stereotypes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambush

The sun was only just starting to peek over the horizon when the lone occupant of a camp stirred.  Lilac eyes squinted at the morning sun, almost as if to damn it for coming up so soon, then were crushed closed when a large yawn overwhelmed him, rows of carnivorous teeth gleaming in the morning light briefly.  Trazu slipped out of his tent and stretched, letting the strengthening sunlight wash over his green scales and warm him a bit before briefly going back into his tent to retrieving his jacket and sword.  He flinched slightly as he pulled the jacket on, it's black leather was a bit cold due to the cool night air of last night, but tolerated the brief discomfort knowing the sun's rays will quickly warm it. 

Settling on the ground next to the small ring of stones that served as the fire pit last night, he carefully inspected his sword, making sure it's edge was still sharp and no rust had started to form on it.  It was a simple curved sword, one commonly found on the market, but he wasn't about to be careless with his equipment just because it could be easily replaced.  This sword had been given to him by the only person he had ever considered 'friend' and the weapon had saved his life many times during the two years time he had been on his own on Talus, both in the cities and out here in the wild. 

A faint smile appeared on his lips as he remembered the first time the sword saved his life.  It was during one of his first trips into Dearic, the Capital of Talus, on his own.  A local gang leader, apparently having only assumed the position, wanted to make an example out of him for invading his 'turf'.  Trazu had to give the man credit, for the bastard nearly did him in, but he made the mistake of underestimating him.  Yes he was rather short for his race, but no matter how short he was it still takes a lot to kill a Trandoshan.  The look on the man's face when he literally cut his reign short was priceless and he still wore the gold bracelet he took as a trophy to this day: it was the first and only time he ever followed the Trandoshan tradition of trophy collecting. 

Satisfied the sword was in perfect condition and it's scabbard was well greased, Trazu sheathed the sword and hooked it onto his belt.  With one final stretch as he rose to his feet, he set off to hunt for his breakfast. 

*** 

The birds were already singing their morning songs and the dew on the grass tickled his feet as he looked for signs of prey.  Trazu walked softly and causally, to not alarm the native residents of the small forest he was currently walking through: to scare away the animals would mean he would go hungry.  He was hoping the herd of paralope he spotted before setting up camp last night was still around, but he doubted it: herds don’t stay in one place very long to avoid predators, like him.  Sure he could just go to the city to get food there, but where was the fun in that?  Like many Trandoshans, he lived for the hunt. 

Besides he preferred this life, the life of a Ranger, for there was no rules other then the laws of nature to follow, no 'traditions' of his race he had to heed to.  He did have a since of law and order however, if not an odd sense of honor.  In part due to his first encounter with a gang, he hated thugs in any shape or form and would kill them on sight.  His excuse: 'better for me to kill them now then to let them live and possibly kill an innocent the following day'. As a result he is well known among the local gangs in town and those gang members that are smart do well to stay out of his sight. Beyond that, he was a ‘nobody’ to everyone else:  he preferred it that way. 

He hadn’t gone very far from his camp when he noticed how quiet it was: the birds had stopped singing, which meant something must have disturbed them.  It wasn’t him, he knew, as he moved as he was a part of the land and not a stranger to it.  He stopped his forward pace, his senses on full alert and his hand moving to the hilt of his sword by pure instinct. 

His nictitating membranes, a semi-transparent third eyelid, slid over his lilac eyes briefly in a blink as he scanned his immediate surroundings.  At first there was nothing, then he heard a faint rustle in a nearby bush and he spotted sudden movement out of the corner of one eye: he spun away from the incoming strike. He didn’t counterstrike, not even drawing his blade, preferring to get a clear view of his attacker first, though he already had a good guess what it was. 

He found himself facing a Zabark male, who had stumbled and took a moment to recompose himself due to Trazu’s evasive maneuver.  Due to Trazu’s training he could tell that this Zabrak was far below him in skill and that he was foolish to attack an armed opponent, let alone an armed Trandoshan.  Trazu just stared at his wannabe opponent, hoping he would come to realize how much trouble he just got himself into: it would be more fun to him if he had to chase this guy down then to fight him head to head. From the man’s clothing he could also tell he was a member of a local gang; this guy had to be either new or looking to prove something considering this gang knew to give him a wide berth. 

Unfortunately this individual’s ‘idiot’ level went up a few notches in Trazu’s mind when the moment he had regained his footing he faced Trazu again, this time he noticed he had a knife. With a snort Trazu drew his own blade, which was easily five times the length of his opponent’s weapon. Again he was hoping to intimidate the man into running. 

“Oooo…so you have a big blade.” The Zabark taunted, “But do you know how to use it lizard face?” 

Trazu sighed, a part of him wanting to cut him down right then, not because of the insult, but because of the sheer stupidity and cockiness of this guy. However he decided to toy with this one for a while instead. He beckoned with this sword, not even going into a fighting stance, telling his opponent to make the first move. The Zabrak took him up on his offer and rushed in, his knife leading the way in a thrust. Trazu easily dodged the strike by twisting around to one side and the Zabrak immediately followed up his thrust with a slash, which Trazu parried lazily. 

The Zabrak kept up the assault, with Trazu staying purely on the defensive, but only half-heartedly.  Again he was hoping this would clue in on this guy that he being easy on him and that he could kill him at any moment if he wished. But this opponent was obviously arrogant to this obvious fact and Trazu was getting bored of this game.  Too bored.  His opponent suddenly managed to get past his lazy defense and landed a blow, a brief flare of pain erupting in his side. Trazu jumped back and inspected the damage.  It was a long shallow cut on his left side, nothing serious and nothing his regeneration ability couldn’t handle. But now he was pissed off, both at himself for allowing himself to slip like that and at his opponent for cutting his favorite jacket. 

His stance went from defensive to offensive right then. In one swift move the Zabrak was disarmed him, his knife ended up buried to the hilt in a nearby tree.

“I was toying with you before…” Trazu growled, “But I am bored of this game now…so now you die.” 

It was then his opponent finally got a clue and started to back away, Trazu following…and closing in on him. When he was close enough he raised his sword to strike the Zabrak dead. But he never got to land that blow, for suddenly he was stuck in the back of the head by something.  He remembered staggering, his sword slipping from his unresponsive fingers and the world spinning in his vision, before total darkness claimed him. 

*** 

A faint light filled his vision some unknown time later and he wondered if this was what death was like.  As the light became brighter and the image became sharper he came to realize that he wasn’t dead when by all his logic he should be. 

Slowly he moved, using his still awakening senses to see if any danger was nearby.  He could hear voices off in the distance, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.  He took this as a good sign, as the owners wouldn’t likely notice him getting up.  So, carefully he put himself into a sitting position, getting momentarily dizzy and needing to steady himself by putting his hands on the ground. Cautiously, he reached back and felt the back of his head: he found a circular soft spot there, the brief pain from touching the new wound making him wince.  He felt some fluid on the spot and brought his hand back to the front to see what it was.  There were slight traces of blood, his blood, on his fingers as well as traces of ash and charred flesh: he had been shot. Trazu hissed it dawned on him that Zabrak was only a distraction, while the real opponent remained at a safe distance and waited for the right moment to striket.  He also realized just how lucky he was: if the shot had hit him just a little lower…. 

It was silly to think of what _could_ have happened and he made a silent thanks to his goddess things turned out the way they did.  Now retribution is due and he had no intention of letting the Zabrak or his unseen ‘friend’ live another day. He did a quick search for his sword, which he found laying in the grass not far away.  He was a bit surprised they didn’t take it…they didn’t take anything off his body, not even his gold bracelet.  They likely thought he was dead and thus felt they had all the time in the world to loot his remains: boy how wrong he was about to prove them. Trazu picked up his sword and studied it a moment, refamiliarizing himself with its weight and sharpness, before putting it in its sheath.   He then proceeded to crawl up the nearby hillside, toward the voices, utilizing his skin color and dark clothing as camouflage in this forested area.  At the top of the hill he stayed low and peered over the top. Down on the other side of the hill, he recognized his own campsite and rummaging through it were two humanoids, one of them the Zabrak he was fighting earlier. The other was a dark skinned human: this one had a rifle slung over his shoulder. 

If there was one thing more he hated then thugs, it was guns.  Oh how he hated guns.  Such dishonorable pieces of equipment they were, equipment that cowards can hide behind with little fear of getting harmed themselves. He hissed, teeth bared, lilac eyes narrowing.  They won’t survive this day not only for being stupid and not making sure he was dead, but due to their cowardly tactics as well. 

Both the punk’s backs were to him, so he silently made his way down the hill toward them.  He made for the human first, flipping his sword between his right and left hands in anticipation.  Once close enough, he attacked, driving his sword forward with all his strength, easily running the punk through with its blade.  The human only had enough time left in his life to look down in shock at the sword protruding from his chest before going limp.  Trazu put his foot on the now dead human’s back and yanked his weapon free, letting the body crumple to the ground.  The Zabrak punk only stood there in disbelief for a moment and then turned into a stuttering fool the second Trazu turned his gaze, and his sword, toward him. 

“P…p…please don’t man…” The Zabrak said, backing away with his hands up in front of his face, “S…s…show some mercy…please…” 

“Mercy?” Trazu said, advancing, amused how this guy so suddenly changed his tune since their first fight, “Have you ever known a T'Doshok to show mercy?” 

“Uh…uh…” 

“Of course there are exceptions to every rule…” Trazu continued and he saw the punk relax a bit, “However…” Trazu snapped forward, grabbing him by the shirt with this free hand and pulled him so he was right in his face and said in a menacing tone: “I do not show mercy to those that use the tactics of cowards…” 

All the color was in the Zabrak’s face had drained and Trazu pushed him away from him.  He started to run, but didn’t get far enough away fast enough to avoid Trazu’s swing, which kindly separated his head from the rest of his body. 

“A quick death is the only form of mercy I will give to scum like you.” Trazu growled as he watched the now headless body stagger a moment then finally crumple to the ground. 

He looted the bodies before disposing of them: for lowlifes they had a quite a bit of cash on them, likely from successful hits before meeting their end by the blade of his sword. Other then the rifle, which he promptly destroyed, they didn’t have anything else on them other then food rations, which he took since he never got to hunt for his morning meal: besides _they_ won’t need them anymore. 

Grumbling he took the time to find all of his belongings those two had scattered about during their rummaging.  He actually didn’t have much in the way of possessions, beyond a couple of skinning knives and cooking equipment he made everything he needed by scratch and any credits he earned or found was in a bank: the datapad that had his account information was on his person.  Once he and found everything, he packed up and left the area.  He didn’t want to risk taking the chance in his injured state that the gang those two were part may come searching for their missing comrades: the last thing he needed was for a whole gang to descend upon him during the night while he was asleep. 

*** 

After a few hours travel Trazu finally set up camp again, which was a few miles away from his old campsite.  There wasn’t any other humanoid in sight and that was the way he wanted it.  He leaned back, listening to the soothing sound of the nearby river and the songs of the birds off in the distance, watching the sky turn into its dusk colors. 

Despite the relaxing atmosphere he felt disappointed in himself; he should have known something was wrong when such an easy kill jumped him like that by himself and he kept mentally kicking himself over it: why else would an opponent so _obviously_ weaker then him seem to attempt to mug him alone? And why the hell didn’t his ‘sixth sense’ warn him about the other thug? Too far away? Or was it because his mind was clouded when he got angry at the thug for managing to cut his jacket? His disappointment had been only slightly lifted by his two assailant’s deaths.  They were stupid not to ensure he was dead and it cost them their lives, but he wouldn’t likely be as lucky next time. With a grunt he felt the back of his head.  It still hurt and he could still feel the burn mark where he was shot still.  Yes, he was _very_ lucky today and Scorekeeper knows ones luck doesn’t always hold out for long: he will have to be more wary in the future. 

He survived the close call, but now he was starting to suffer. The wound on the back of his head wasn’t deep, but it was starting to swell, causing a dull throbbing headache to start. It will heal quickly, thanks to his species innate regeneration abilities, but he didn’t want to be uncomfortable either. So he moved down to the rivers bank, stripped down to his boxers, and wadded into the river. The cool water was a shock to his system at first, but quickly got used to it. He lay on his back in water that was just shallow enough to keep him from floating away and allowed the coolness of the water soothe the aching wound. 

Watching the clouds float by over his head, he let his mind wander. There were many things he wished he could change: his freaking height for one. Often he is mistaken for a kid at first because of this: he had lost count on how many times he had 'corrected' such errors during his life. His height has always been a sensitive issue to him, since he was teased about his 'lack' of it when he was still on his homeworld Trandosha: it was one of the reasons he ended up leaving the planet long before most Trandoshans do. It was good fortune when he met Rane Krasti, who taught him what he knew and gave him many valuable lessons. Lessons like: appearances can be deceiving, which is a lesson he was reminded of today. He genuinely missed the human and wondered where he was and how he was doing. Rare it is for a Trandoshan to consider anyone, even among their own kind, a friend and Rane was most definitely a friend to Trazu. 

 _Who am I…what is my purpose?_ He thought, asking himself two age old questions. At this moment, he didn’t know, but an old vision...or was a memory?...came to him. One about being trapped in a dark place, his life nearly slipping away from him only to be saved when a beam of life giving light penetrated that darkness. He felt safe and secure, then that security was taken away: a part of him felt empty ever since. It was a familiar feeling, one he felt off and on depending on his mood. Was it the memory of his earliest moments? Or was it a vision of what is to come? He didn’t know. 

The sun was sinking behind the horizon and the air was starting to cool.  Knowing the combination of wet skin and cool air wasn’t good for him; he climbed out of the river.  Stifling a yawn, he gathered his cloths and returned to camp: it was time to turn in for the night.  With one last look at his surroundings, he entered his tent to sleep the night away and give his body the rest it needed to heal his wounds. 

*** 

_A much younger Trazu grumbled bitterly to himself as his mentor, a human named Rane Krasti, bandaged his wounds, ignoring the pain.  He had picked a fight with a small local animal, a kima, which he thought he would be able to defeat easily, but ended up losing to it by a long shot and much to the embarrassment to the young Trandoshan._

_“What are you grumbling about?” his mentor asked him._

_“I should have won…” Trazu growled._

_“Why?  Because it was smaller then you?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“Just because something is lacking in the size department doesn’t mean it is weak and just because something_ looks _weaker then yourself doesn’t mean it will be an easy win.” Rane said, “It is never safe to assume an easy win going by looks alone, for you never know what tricks your seemingly weak opponent will have up it’s sleeve.”_

_“But…”_

_“And being cocky about your abilities can be just as dangerous.” Rane interrupted, “and you…” he poked him in the snout, “as a member of a race who are well known as hunters, should know this.”_

_Trazu hung his head, his mentor’s words stinging and he could think of no response._

_“’That which does not kill us makes us stronger.’” Rane said, “You are still young Trazu and have many years ahead of you, provided you do not act foolish and stupid.”_

_***_  

Trazu woke up after that dream, no, that was a memory and sighed.  It was a lesson he had forgotten and he nearly lost his life because he had forgotten it.  He vowed not to forget it again.  Turning over, he went back to sleep, so he would properly rested for what tomorrow could bring.


	2. Blood and Pirates

A couple of days later Trazu was on the road again, going where ever his instincts told him to go. It was a nice day out; the sun was warm with a faint breeze wafting through the air.  The only thing that worried him was the fact that he was now traveling in the vast expanse of plains that were to the south of Dearic.  There hadn’t been much rain so far this year so the grass was yellow, making his green scales and dark clothing very obvious from far off.  This meant that hunting would be trickier in this area, for prey would spot him from much farther off if he wasn’t careful: the same with any gangs roaming the countryside looking for lone travelers to pick off. He didn’t need to hunt right now fortunately, as he had caught some fish in the river before setting out.  Plus he was confident in his abilities and the skills Rane had taught him. 

Trazu remembered when he met Rane, not so long ago when he first arrived on Talus roughly seven years ago.  He wasn’t even an adolescent then, a ten standard year old Trandoshan suddenly finding himself on a planet where he had no clue how to fend for himself: he didn’t even know Basic.  Trazu remembered the fear, the confusion, and the feeling of being completely _lost_ was rather overwhelming and wondered if he had made a mistake.  His foray into the big wide galaxy was almost cut short by a chance encounter with an enraged Wookiee, but fortunately Rane had stepped in just in time.  For five years after that day, he remained in Rane’s company, learning how to survive in the wild and other skills, including improving his swordsmanship, which he knew the basics of back then from his training back home.  It was a sad day for him when Rane told him it was time for them to part ways…. 

*** 

_“Why can’t I stay with you?” Trazu said, watching in dismay as Rane packed up his few possessions._

_“You have learned everything I could teach you Trazu.” Rane said, not looking up from his task. “And it’s time for both of us to move on.”_

_“But…”_

_“The life of a Ranger is one of solitude Trazu.  You are fifteen now and an adult for your race, by now others of your age would have moved on by their own accord.”_

_“I am not ‘like’ the others…you know that…”_

_“That is not what I am trying to say Trazu.  I’ve taught you everything I could for you to continue to learn and grow mentally is for you to start doing things on your own.  If I was to remain in your company I would only be hindering you.”_

_“I don’t understand…how can you hinder me?”_

_“By allowing you to remain dependent on me.  You are somewhat ‘clingy’ for a Trandoshan.  I believe this is my own fault as I have spoiled you and the only way I know to break you of that habit is for me to leave and make you fend for yourself.”_

_***_  

It had been a harsh final lesson: sometimes for continued growth one must strike out on his own and learn things in his own way.  At the time he found his mentor’s comments to be insulting, but now he realized he was right: he had grown too dependent, too…’clingy’ on him.  He was old enough and skilled enough to fend for himself and no longer needed a ‘safety net’. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a faint plume of smoke. Pausing in his stride he studied the plume.  At first he suspected a wildfire, but wildfires tended spread quickly on these grasslands and this plume of smoke wasn’t getting any bigger, so it was likely something else.  Curious now, Trazu headed in that direction of the smoke, noting it looked to be just beyond a one of the few small groves of trees that dotted the grasslands.  

As he drew closer he started to hear faint laughter: it seemed the smoke was from a camp fire. That just brought new questions though.  With the sun still up there was no need for a campfire unless the campers were cooking: there wasn’t enough smoke for it to be that. The mystery intriguing him even more, he moved even closer and after entering the small grove of trees and almost completely passing through it he found the source. 

There was a speeder that looked like it had met a bad end, its engine compartments smoking and anti-gravity panels no longer functioning. Just off to one side of the wreck was a group of four men, members of the Binyate Pirate gang going by their colors and clothing, and they were going over what looked like the spoils of their hit. Trazu couldn’t see the driver of the speeder, who he feared was likely dead by now knowing this particular gangs reputation. 

 _Time for my good deed of the day._ Trazu thought grimly, as the quietly shrugged off his pack. If the driver was dead he intended to avenge his or her needless death: pirates were the worse of all thugs and he despised them greatly. From his position he could tell two of the men were armed: one had a staff, the other a lance, but the remaining two he couldn’t tell what weapon they used, if anything.  He knew it wouldn’t be smart to just rush in: that would be suicide with this gang, so he needed to even the odds a little.  

They hadn’t noticed him yet, so he took the time to move in a bit closer, using the trees and underbrush as cover and picked up a rock along the way.  When he was close enough he stood up threw the rock at the closest pirate. The rock smacked the back of the pirate with the lance, who shot up with a start and glared in Trazu’s direction.  This was one of the few cases his small size worked to his advantage: the pirates were assuming he was just a kid looking for trouble and not really worth the effort for all of them to attack him.  So he decided to play that ‘assumption’ up a bit. 

“Wanna play?” Trazu taunted in a childish voice, quickly picking up and throwing another rock at the pirate, this one bouncing off the man’s head. The lancer, angry and his buddies laughing at him, picked up a sizable stone and threw it at Trazu in retaliation.  Trazu feigned getting hit and dropped to the ground, pretending to have been knocked out, though the stone had missed him by a good amount. Predictably the man rushed over to his position to finish him off.  The moment the man was next to him he then dropped his deception and rolled to one side, onto his back. Before the man could recover from his surprise, Trazu did a reverse tumble, bringing him behind his attacker and back on his feet. Out came his sword, slashing across the back of one of the man’s knees, severing the ligaments. The man crumpled, screaming in pain and grasping his knee. Knowing this one was out of the fight, Trazu turned his attention to the other three, who by now realized he wasn’t such an easy target.  He quickly realized one of them actually had a rifle. 

 _Damn guns…_ Trazu thought as he dived out of the way of a rifle shot. He planted his hands on the ground and flipped himself over, landing on his feet again right in front of one of the other advancing pirates. Using the momentum from his flip, Trazu brought his sword straight down upon the man, slicing a deep cut down his torso and splitting open his belly. Quickly he pivoted, blocking another pirate’s strike with his sword: his counter strike cut threw the assailant’s staff cleanly. 

“You need to check on the quality of your equipment…” Trazu taunted as he reversed his grip on his sword and then smashed the pommel into the pirate’s head, knocking him out cold. Three down, one to go: Trazu went for the rifleman then, who just barely missed hitting him with his next shot. The rifleman fired wildly, hoping to pick him off before he reached him: he should have ran instead.  The rifleman tried to parry Trazu’s sword with his weapon, but a rifle makes a poor substitute, especially when one knew nothing about fighting melee.  Scant moments later, the rifleman was dead, his head now absent from his body, his rifle slipping from his fingers.  

“Guns…cowardly weapons…” Trazu grumbled, kicking the weapon in disgust. 

“I agree.” A voice said. Trazu turned around sharply to see there was a _fifth_ pirate, a male Trandoshan who was leaning against the downed speeder with his arms folded across his chest. “Guns are so…impersonal…” The male added. “I must say I am impressed by your fighting skills kid: those men were the best I had.” 

Trazu narrowed his eyes, felling insulted at being called a ‘kid’, even though he had just used that assumption against the other pirates: it was a bit different when the one insulting you knew you had to be an adult.  Unfortunately it was a common thing when you were as short has he was. “If those were your best…I shudder to think how your worse are.” Trazu said, snarling faintly. 

“Well…the best by a pirates standards.” The male chuckled. “They were far from the best by K’Satikur standards.” 

 _K’Satikur…where have I heard that name before…._ Trazu thought, searching his memory, but nothing coming up at the moment.  All he did know was that it was obviously a Trandoshan Clan. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of ‘K’Satikur’ before…” 

“Really?” The male looked a bit insulted. “Did you leave Trandosha right after you hatched or something kid? The K’Satikur was the most feared Clan on Trandosha…” 

“’Was’?” Trazu said, quirking an eyebrow when he picked up on the past tense of that statement. “Sounds like they aren’t so feared now, they go soft?” 

“Soft…” The male’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ll show you soft….” The Trandoshan unfolded his arms and Trazu was a bit intrigued at the male’s choice of weapon. On his right hand was a weapon rarely used by Trandoshans these days according to his instructors back home: a _K'Zur_ , which was a glove with claws on each digit that were nearly a foot long each. The blades were thin, very sharp and capable of cutting through the toughest hide. On his left wrist was a thick metal bracer: no doubt used for blocking. “The Clan may be on the downside since I left it…but we are not soft!” 

“I could use a challenge…” Trazu said, adopting a fighting stance. “Come on then…or are you all bluff?” 

“Arrogant runt…” The male hissed as he charged him. “I will rip you to pieces!” 

The first strike Trazu was able to block, but it left his teeth ringing. The male was much bigger and stronger then he was and would easily overwhelm him if he wasn’t careful. Trazu stayed on the defensive for the most part, aiming to have his larger opponent wear himself out. He did make an attack when he thought he saw an opening, but he was blocked every time. He was also getting minor wounds when he wasn’t quick enough to evade or block his opponent’s attacks. Nothing that would hinder him on their own, but minor wounds added up and as the fight continued they were starting to sap his strength. To make matters worse the guy seemed to have endless energy!  For the first time Trazu feared he may lose this fight and a part of him wanted to flee before the fight became fatal for him.  However, his pride and warrior’s spirit refused to run, knowing that fleeing now would forever mark him as a coward in this male’s eyes. 

 _But am I not already a coward for fleeing our homeworld?_ He thought, barely parrying another attack.  The sudden thought distracted too much needed focus at the task at hand and the male’s next attack, a punch to the face with his ungloved hand, took him by complete surprise.  The blow spun him around, exposing his back to his opponent. Next thing Trazu knew, he as being lifted up into the air by the larger male’s armed hand, the blades the _K’Zur_ biting into the flesh of his leg. Then he was flying, landing hard on the ground about five feet away and lost his grip on his sword, which landed a couple feet away. Winded, losing his strength, and cursing himself for getting distracted, Trazu was starting to wish he didn’t decide to play good samaritan. 

“You would have made a good K’Satikur warrior runt…” He heard the male taunt. “If you were bigger and stronger. ‘Friad you are too small to amount to anything it seems.  A pity really…you had potential going by your skill.” 

“I…could care less about your stupid Clan.” Trazu said as he struggled to feet, the males insults biting deep.  Finding his sword, he went back into a fighting stance, though he was a little shaky. 

“You still want to fight?” The male laughed. “Look at yourself, you’re a bloody mess. You didn’t even land a blow on me. Face it runt…you would have been better off in one of the wussy professions…like art…or maybe you should join one of those freak shows instead: I’m sure people will pay to see those eyes of yours.” 

That had hit one to many buttons and Trazu, seething in anger, felt the strength suddenly return to his limbs.  With a loud growl of defiance, charged at his opponent at a pace his logical mind found hard to believe. With each step his mind went hazy and unfocused as blind rage and the urge to spill blood took over him completely. 

*** 

When he ‘came too’ he was surprised to see he was actually standing. What was more surprising was to see that his opponent was now dead, cut to pieces and his own clawed glove impaled in his chest: his hand was still inside it.  The pirates he hadn’t actually killed yet were also dead now as well, their bodies cut and slashed so many times they were beyond recognition. 

Trazu looked around, wondering who had done this: he certainly didn’t remember doing it, but he didn’t see anyone else nearby. He looked at himself to find he was covered with blood, some of his own, but most of it not.  

 _What happened?_ He thought. _Did I do this?  How?_  

He didn’t have time to ponder about it long, as a wave of exhaustion unlike what he had ever felt before washed over him.  He staggered once; then fell, falling asleep almost as soon as he hit the ground.


	3. Unexpected Company

Trazu recalled everything that happened during his ‘black out’ while he slept and what he remembered was horrifying.  He had practically turned into a savage beast, attacking his enemies ruthlessly and with a level of furiousity he never knew was in him before.  He had moved so quickly that the other Trandoshan couldn’t even get a bead on him and was helpless when he practically tore him to pieces.  There was the look of sheer terror on all of his victim’s faces, especially on the other Trandoshan’s: it seemed he knew about the state Trazu had gone into, but sadly he was now dead thus was no longer ‘available’ to explain it. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had been in a more populated area.  Would he have started to attack innocents as well?  Something very deep inside him he felt ‘smile’ at that very prospect.  With a mental cry of both disgust and fear he buried that ‘something’ even deeper into his subconscious. 

As his mind became aware of the outside world again, he immediately knew something wasn't right. He could hear the sounds of a campfire, which meant he was in someone’s camp: certainly couldn't be his own since he hadn't set one up yet today.  Whose camp was it?  Did it belong to buddies of the pirates he just slaughtered?  Cautiously he opened his eyes, to be greeted by the pin point lights of the stars above. 

 _Damn_.  He thought.  _I was out that long?_    When he had attacked the pirates it was just past noon: it seemed he literally slept the rest of the day away. Wanting to know who and what was around him, he carefully tested his limbs.  He quickly found that every ounce of his body ached, both due to all the wounds he had received and the fact he hadn’t fought that hard in a long time.  Forcing himself to sit up, he winced in pain from his wounds and for the first time noticed he was clean, his wounds were bandaged and there was a blanket covering him. That was a relief for it meant he wasn't in a pirate camp: they were more likely to just kill him and when they _did_ take prisoners they didn't bother to tend to their wounds from what he heard. So who helped him? 

Trazu looked around a bit and spied a figure sitting next to the campfire.  It was a female Trandoshan, who was poking at the fire with a large stick.  The light from the fire made it a little difficult to determine details, but she looked like she had golden green scales and orange eyes and she wore an off white tunic like suit with a red cloth belt around her waist.  At first he could only stare at her, for his was female of his kind he had seen for over seven years. 

“You can stop staring kid.” The female suddenly snapped, giving him an annoyed look. 

"I am not a kid." Trazu said with a faint growl.  “And who are you?” 

"Really?" The female said, ignoring his question. "You look like you still got some growing to do."

"I cannot help being a bit...vertically challenged." Trazu said, folding his arms. "Where did you come from anyway? I thought females don't leave Trandosha." 

She snorted.  “Where the heck did you get that notion? There are more of us off planet then you think.” She said, looking a bit insulted by his comment, which Trazu felt was good payback for the height insult she laid on him earlier. "Anyway I was on a delivery mission when those...thugs...ambushed me and disabled my speeder. I would have been dead, but that male brute of a T'Doshok wanted to take me back to their main camp so he could have some ‘fun’ with me if you get my drift. I think he was considering starting that a bit early when you came along." 

“How come I didn’t see you before hand?” Trazu asked.  If he had known she was there, he would have made his attack on the pirates a bit differently.  Hostage situations tended to complicate matters, however that male Trandoshan never used her against him for some reason.  Remembering that he was nearly killed by that male he assumed he didn’t because he felt he didn’t _need_ to use her. 

“Same reason you didn’t see that T’Doshok brute at first.” She replied.  “We were behind the speeder, down at the base of the decline that was just beyond it.” She gave a dramatic sigh. "I would have reached Dearic by nightfall if it wasn't for them." 

"Dearic?" Trazu said, rubbing his chin. "That's only about a day and a half's hike to the north from here."

The female groaned. "That's far..."

"Not really.  I travel that kind of distance all the time.  I probably head there anyway once I’ve recovered a bit.  That fight ripped up my clothing a bit so I should get them patched up, or replaced: don’t want to go wandering the country side naked after all.”

The females eyes seemed to gleam a bit at that comment, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.  “Judging by your equipment…you’re a scout?”

"Ranger." Trazu corrected, not sure if he should be upset at her for going through his things or not.

"Same difference to me." The female said with a shrug. "So are you offering to escort me the rest of the way?” she asked, her expression hopeful.

Trazu laughed.  “Well, I could if you are willing to wait a couple of days for me to heal up enough to travel.” He said. “That bastard did a number on me.” 

“Well, you did an even worse number on _him_.” She countered.  Trazu could have sworn he caught a disappointed, if not angry, edge to her voice. “And this delivery is a bit time sensitive, so I don’t know if I can wait.” 

“Well if you can’t wait Dearic is that way.” Trazu pointed in the direction Dearic was.  “I’m not going to risk traveling in my condition if I can help it.” 

“Oh puh-lease…other then the wound on your leg most of your injuries are minor.  I bet you’ll be walking again by morning.” 

“Maybe, but I am not one to take unnecessary risks.” Trazu said laying back down. 

“So says a short ass that just took on a K’Satikur warrior of all things.” The female said with a faint snarl. “Only stupid people or those with a death wish take one of _them_ on.” 

“For your information…” Trazu propped himself up on one elbow.  “To the best of my recollection today was the first time I have even _heard_ of this ‘K’Satikur’ clan, so how was _I_ supposed to know to just run away like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs?” 

“He _did_ warn you.” 

“So I thought it was all bluff.  The point is moot anyway: he’s dead…I’m alive.  Now please…if you still want me to escort you shut up and let me heal up and sleep.  If not, let me rest anyway.”  To make it clear the discussion was over he laid back down again and turned his back to her. 

He heard another snarl from her but he ignored it.  It did dawn on him that he was being rather snappy at her, despite the fact she did help him.  However he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable around her and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because she was the first female he’s ever been this close to and his attitude was due to not knowing how exactly to act toward her?  No, it was something else he felt, but what? 

“You must get…’lonely’…being out here by yourself.” He heard the female say, much closer then before. 

His sense of discomfort went up a notch: he did not like the tone her voice had.  “The life of a Ranger is one of solitude. “ He said, refusing to look at her. “Being alone is not only accepted, but practically required.” 

“Surely you take advantage of chance visits every once in a while.”  He felt her drag a claw down the middle of his back, making him shudder involuntarily.  It was obvious what she wanted and while Trazu was physically mature he wasn’t _mentally_ ready for such a thing. 

“I’m not interested.” He said stiffly, pulling the blanket over himself to further the point. “Besides seducing me won’t get you to Dearic any faster.” 

“But it’ll be fun.” She insisted. “Come on now think about it.  Since this ‘ranger’ life is supposed to be so lonely you wouldn’t have as many opportunities to get it on now wouldn’t you?  Heck this may be your only chance.” 

“You seem to forget that when our people want to ‘get it on’ they must prove themselves worthy of it at first and return home.  Even then it’s never for the ‘fun’ of it.”  Trazu said with a snarl, his whole body tense: he just wanted her to go away and leave him alone. “I said ‘no’ and that’s final.” 

There was a frustrated sigh.  “Just my luck you’re one of those boring old fashioned types.” He heard her say. “So let’s try it this way then…” Suddenly he felt something hard and sharp against his back.  Trazu froze, not daring to move, his eyes wide with shock.  He didn’t need her to actually say the threat as it was obvious: if he didn’t do as she wanted she would kill him. 

“You’re….that desperate…” He said quietly as he tried to think of how to get out of this mess.  There was little doubt she was using his own sword against him: she had plenty of opportunity to secure it while he was out cold, and it would be difficult if not impossible to disarm her in his current condition.  Even if he wasn’t injured it would be difficult, for he had very little in the way of unarmed fighting skills.  “Why didn’t you ‘satisfy’ yourself while I was out cold?” 

“Please, I have more class then that.” She said. “Besides I was hoping not to resort to this….but you are a stubborn one.  The male you killed earlier wasn’t so old fashioned, but you had to come along and kill him.” 

Trazu glanced over his shoulder at her, noting she was already partly undressed.  “So that little ambush story was untrue…” 

“Oh the part about getting jumped by them was true.”  She said, a rather cold look on her face.  “But a girl like me knows an opportunity when she sees one and their leader agreed I could be of use to them.  I had the potential to make a lot more credits and have fun doing it with them then running stupid, boring delivery jobs.  But no…you had to come along and ‘save’ me, leaving me unsatisfied.” 

He felt the point of the sword disappear and he knew if he was going to act he needed to act _now_.  Gripping the blanket with one hand he suddenly threw it off himself toward the female.  She gasped in surprise as it covered her and Trazu sprang to his feet and attempted to bolt.  He didn’t like running, but lacking control of his sword and being injured as he was, it was his only option to save his dignity and prevent a great act of shame from being committed to him against his will. 

However fate seemed to be against him tonight, for he had taken no more then two steps when his leg gave out from under him.  Pain erupted in that leg when the wounds reopened, fresh crimson blood staining the bandage covering them.  Swallowing his desire to scream, he forced himself up upon his hands and knees, only to be violently grabbed by the neck and pulled upward. 

“Cute.” The female hissed, putting him into a headlock.  Trazu saw a brief flash as she brought the sword up, dangerously close to his face. “Very cute.  Good try kid, but I am going to get what I want…and you’re going to give it to me.” 

*** 

She was thankfully gone the next morning, but what she had done to him left him badly shaken.  That morning he could only gather his belongings and leave the area in a state of numb shock: he didn’t want to believe what happened last night really had happened.  The going was slow due to his injuries, but pure determination to leave the scene of that terrible event allowed him to block out the pain.  It was later on, after he found a river to set up camp next to, that it started to sink in fully.  He practically ripped off his clothes and jumped into the river.  Ignoring the biting chill of the water he ripped off the bandages scrubbed himself viciously, wanting to remove and wash away any and all reminders of _her_.  Finally the pain, both mental and physical, was too much and he collapsed against a large rock, sobbing heavily. 

He tried telling himself it wasn’t his fault, that the cards had happened to be stacked against him that day and he did everything he could do to prevent it.  However the feeling of helplessness and fear she poured into him was overwhelming and his self confidence and pride was left badly damaged.  He had discovered another negative thing about living the life of a Ranger as well: when something this bad happened there was no one around to help or console you afterward.  Never in his life had he felt so isolated and alone, but fear of mockery and what pride was left in his soul kept him from wanting to seek out others for comfort. 

Thus he only had himself for comfort….


	4. Unusual Professions

The fire burned hot and the meat sizzled as it cooked, filling the air with a delicious aroma and making Trazu’s stomach grumble.  Trazu knew the hunk of meat he had on the improvised spit wasn’t ready yet though, so he ignored his stomachs pleas to be fed for the time being, busying himself by stretching the skin he had just skinned off of a paralope along the frame he made.  He had been doing a lot of ‘busy’ work like this as of late, in part due to the season and to help him keep his mind off that ‘incident’ he experienced a few months back, the memory of it stubbornly refusing to stay buried in the back of his mind completely. 

The past few months had been hard on him emotionally.  Confusing and conflicting thoughts had been swirling in his head trying to figure out just who to blame, if anyone, and what he did to deserve such a thing.  There was of course, no real answer and eventually the questions and bouts of self doubt started to fade, only to be renewed occasionally when the memory came back to him in a flashback or nightmare. 

It had taken him a while to get back to a ‘normal’ routine as well.  For the first month or so he was extremely paranoid, avoiding any and all contact with other sentient life: he hadn’t even knocked off any thugs during this time.  Slowly he had come to realize it was silly to avoid _everyone_ , even if his Ranger lifestyle easily allowed him to do so, and gradually started getting comfortable around people again.  It was still hard though and he honestly didn’t know how he would react if he came across another Trandoshan female: he wasn’t even sure how’d he react if he happened upon _her_ again.  One thing was for certain: some of his fear had turned to anger and because of that he wasn’t sure if he would run from her or just kill her outright. 

The scent of charred flesh reached his nose and he realized he had let the meat cook a little too long.  After setting down the frame he quickly removed the spit and inspected his meal.  It was a bit charred on one side but was still editable, so he settled down and started eating. 

As he ate he looked over at the small pile of skins he had gathered over the last month or so.  Usually the skins he gathered were used to replace the fabric on his simple tent and blanket, but occasionally if the season had been good and the skins were of good quality he would stockpile a few to sell at the bazaar in Dearic.  The skin he was stretching and drying today was the last one he intended to collect before going to Dearic, which was only a half days journey away.  This along with any credits he looted off the thugs he killed were his main source of income, but since he owned no land or property that was taxable his bank account just kept growing, with the exception of the times he had to purchase or repair things. 

As he bit into the hunk of meat he paused a moment when he thought he heard something.  His pause was only for a split second, but enough for anyone that was observant would know he was now fully alert to his surroundings.  Though he continued to eat at a normal pace, his eyes scanned the brush beyond his little camp. There.  Movement.  He spotted a slight rustle in the bush that was just behind his pile of skins.  Pretending to not have noticed the disturbance, he watched the spot and slowly he realized one of his skins was being pulled away.  With a barely audible snarl he reached down with one hand, picked up a decent sized stone and hurled it at the spot.  There was a yelp of surprise as a result. 

“Most thieves attempt to steal things of more immediate value.” Trazu snarled, lowering the spit for a moment.  “I suggest you show yourself before I am forced to hunt you down.  It won’t be a pleasant experience for you if it comes to that I promise you.” For a moment the only sound and movement was from the fire, then the head of another Trandoshan poked out of the bush. 

Trazu felt his muscles tighten: it was female, though thankfully not the same one as before.  Her scales were slightly dark yellow ochre and her eyes were a pale gold, which was a less common coloration for his people.  Even though it wasn’t the same female, he felt a surge of fear and panic and had to fight to keep himself from running:  apparently he wasn’t as over it as he thought he was.  

“You look as though you never seen a female of our race before.” The female said, her voice low and a slightly submissive. 

“Whether I have or not is none of your business.” Trazu said sharply and defensively.  “Why are you trying to steal my skins?  Animal hides are not worth that much in raw form.” 

“I wasn’t going to sell them…” 

Trazu raised a brow.  “Then want for?  To make yourself some clothing out of them?  If you need clothing there are charities in Dearic that would give you some at no cost.” 

“To make cloths yes…but not for myself.”  She stepped out fully and Trazu could see she was fully clothed, though her clothing was a bit tattered and patchy.  He watched as she sat at the fire opposite of him, his hand checking to ensure his sword was close at hand subconsciously. “It’s so I can get my tailoring business up and going…” 

Despite his tension and paranoia, that stuck him as rather funny.  His chuckles rapidly become full blown laughter and he had a hard time keeping himself from falling over.  Trandoshan hands were ill suited for manipulating small objects thanks to their large claws: the image of a Trandoshan trying to sow was just plain laughable. 

“My mother is a tailor.” The female growled, looking thoroughly insulted.  “She runs her own shop back home.” 

“If that’s so…” Trazu said after he managed to calm himself down. “Why aren’t you helping her with her shop?” 

“I was.  But mother wanted to see how viable it would be to expand our business to include clothing styles from other races.  So she sent me and my sister off planet to study other styles and start up a small scale shop.” She sighed and cast her eyes toward the ground. “However, for some reason dear mother left my sister in charge of the funds she loaned us…and before I knew it she had spent it all on late night parties, leaving us both broke and stranded on this planet.  I took up a job as a waitress at the Cantina in Narshall to build up enough credits to get us back home or at least to Corillia where the job market is better, but my sister ran off a few months ago, claiming to have taken a one time stint to deliver something to Dearic. I haven’t seen her since.” 

Trazu’s eyes narrowed:  the last part of her story got his full attention.  Was it possible these two were related?  “Did your…’sister’…happen to have golden green scales and orange eyes?” He in a faint snarl. 

The female looked a bit taken back, whether it was due to his question, his hostile tone, or both who knows.  “Yes…you met her?  If so…do you know where she is?” She asked, a bit hesitantly. 

“Yes I met her…” Trazu said with a scowl. “…and no I don’t know where she is now.  She could’ve been eaten by a Torton for all I care.” 

“Sounds like your experience with her was a bit…negative…” 

“Gee whatever gave you _that_ idea?” He growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If you want my guess on where your skragging sister is she’s likely with the Binyates: she’ll fit right in with those scumbags.” 

“The pirates…”  She looked a bit shocked.  “I…knew her to be a bit reckless, rebellious even…but to join a pirate gang…I just can’t see it.” 

“Boy are you naïve…” 

“Hey!  I can’t watch my sister all hours of the day you know, nor do I want to.” She spat. “I find some of her forms of ‘entertainment’ disgusting to be honest.” 

“We actually agree there miss.” Trazu returned to eating his meal, which had gone cool due to the interruption.  He watched her as he ate, noting she kept looking at his food.  She did look a bit on the thin side, which likely meant she hadn’t eaten well as of late.  Wasn’t his problem he felt, though something else about her bothered him, starting to drive him crazy with anxiety actually.  “Just say it and get it over with.” He growled finally between mouthfuls. 

The female looked confused.  “Say what?” She asked. 

“I know you’re going to say it, everyone that met me has so just say it and be done with it.” 

She spread her hands helplessly. “I honestly don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“You blind as well as stupid lady?” 

She growled at him, then surprised him by saying. “I am not blind, I just don’t judge people by their appearance.  Though I will admit your attitude is starting to make me wonder about your mental age.” 

He winced, realizing he was being a bit of an ass when she didn’t deserve it: the fact he actually hadn’t held a conversation with someone for a while didn’t help.  “Sorry.” He said with a sigh, releasing the spit with one hand and letting that end drop a bit.  “I have a hard time being comfortable around others these days, due to…” He stopped and shook his head.  No he will not tell a complete stranger about _that_. “You’re only the second person that didn’t make an assumption about me based on my appearance.” He said, changing the subject slightly.  “It happened so often that I just automatically think everyone will make that assumption.” 

The female nodded sympathically.  “I can only imagine the pain you had to go through growing up.  I am a bit surprised you made it this far, considering how our people like to cast out those that are drastically different then what’s considered the ‘norm’.” 

“I have wondered about that myself.” Trazu admitted. “Beyond the teasing I was pretty much left alone.  Still, it was more then I could….wait a minute, just why am I telling you all this?  I don’t even know you.” 

“Tzosha.  My name’s Tzosha.” She said.  “There, now you know me.” 

“Knowing your name does not mean I _know_ you.” Trazu said, rolling his eyes. “Just means I have a name to go with the face now.” 

“It’s a start isn’t it?” 

“What makes you think I even _want_ to get to know you?” 

“I suppose not…” Tzosha sighed. “Especially since I just attempted to steal from you.” 

“Be lucky I didn’t just kill you.” Trazu said bluntly.  “I kill thugs on sight normally, it’s something of a hobby of mine.” 

“A vigilante? Aren’t there laws against taking the law into your own hands?” 

“There supposedly is, but first off the police force on this planet is so corrupt it’s a wonder the planet isn’t a pirate stronghold.  Second the government seems to care less what I do to the common thug: they figure if it keeps them from having to spend money on them it’s just fine and dandy.” 

“Sounds like this wouldn’t be a good place to set up a tailoring shop: seems like I am more likely to be robbed then get customers.” 

“Considering what you were trying to pull a minute ago I doubt you would get it off the ground anyway.” 

“I’m desperate ok?  I want to go home and tell my mother what happened, but I don’t want to be branded a failure either, even if it is my sisters fault.  I don’t even have an apartment and the Cantina in Dearic won’t have me unless I have a place of residence.  I would go back to Narshal but I don’t have the credits to pay for transport.” 

“There are other places to find work besides Cantinas you know…” 

“No one’s hiring…I checked…” 

 “Considering how scrappy your clothes look I doubt many would hire you anyway…save for garbage pick up maybe…” 

Tzosha scowled. “Your clothes aren’t exactly ‘pristine’ either buster.” 

“But as a Ranger that is perfectly acceptable.” He countered, smuggly.  “We’re supposed to be ‘rugged’ looking.” 

“I doubt even a Ranger would let his clothing get so tattered and hole ridden that they wouldn’t even be good for dishwashing.” 

Trazu scowled at her for a moment, then sighed and leaned back against a tree, setting the spit back over the fire.  He lifted up one edge of his jacket and inspected it: the normally black leather was starting to turn brown in many places due to decay and wear and tear.  It also had many holes in it, many of them the result of that fight with the male Trandoshan a few months back.  Normally he wouldn’t have let his clothes go like this, but his mental state of the past few months had given him very little motivation to go to town to get them patched up. “Alright you got me there.” He admitted.  He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it at her.  “Get to work.” 

“Wha…you expect me to fix this?” Tzosha said, holding it up in disgust.  “You’d be better off just replacing it with a new one.” 

“Look I still find it hard to believe you’re a tailor, so prove it.  If you impress me I may be able to help you in some way.  How is for me to decide, if I decide to help you at all.” 

Tzosha growled, but didn’t argue and Trazu watched as she took a small sewing kit out of her bag and got to work.


	5. Admission

She not only impressed him with her sewing ability, but solved a little mystery he was curious about.  For some time he wondered just how his people did more delicate work, such as surgery and some of the mechanical works, and assumed they just had robots or slaves do it.  Tzosha, however, demonstrated that wasn’t always the case: to manipulate the needle she used a highly specialized tool that resembled a cross between a pair of scissors and tweezers.  At first he felt the tool looked a bit clumsy to use, but she had made it look easy and her stitch work was so good the only reason he could even see it was because she didn’t have any black thread and was forced to use white. 

A part of him was a bit upset that he had been proven wrong and he almost decided not to help her for that very reason.  However he ultimately didn’t let his pride and ego override his sense of honor, so he invited her to come with him into Dearic so he could figure out how to help her out a bit. 

Once in Dearic he took her to a little shop he usually went to when he needed to get his clothes repaired or replaced.  It was only his intention to get a replacement jacket for himself, Tzosha had done everything she could but ultimately the jacket was beyond hope, and new set of clothes for her.   However she and the shopkeeper started talking, casually at first but the conversation quickly turned to business, and the guy ended up hiring her. 

Trazu checked up on her regularly after that, noticing an increase of business to the shop since then.  He also noticed the increase of confidence in her, especially when she found a low rent apartment to stay in after she earned her first paycheck.  The two also became good friends as time went on: Tzosha’s boss sometimes joked that they made a cute couple.  Trazu was always quick to blow that joke off, though he admitted, if only to himself, that he couldn’t help but feel eager to see her after being away for a while. 

Lately, he had been staying extended periods of time at her place, usually sitting on the balcony talking.  Tzosha did make the offer a few times for him to stay the night, but Trazu always refused, citing he never really felt comfortable sleeping indoors.  In reality, he just wasn’t comfortable sleeping when there was a female close by.  Though he knew by now Tzosha would never do such a thing, that irrational fear was not so easy to beat: he even flinched whenever she touched him.  He didn’t know for sure if she noticed his unease at being touched by her and if she was to question him on it he wasn’t sure how he would answer.  His mind was full of conflicting emotions and instincts: one side longing for company, the other wanting to run away from it all. 

As time past, the longing side was gradually gaining ground. 

“So Rane was like a father figure to you.” Tzosha said.  The pair were sitting on the balcony bench watching the sunset.  Trazu had just told her about his human mentor, even going as far as to tell her how much he missed him. 

“Yeah, he was the closest thing I could refer to as a father in my life.” Trazu said leaning back against the wall. 

“Must have been hard, not knowing who your father is.  Rather odd no one told you: usually they tell you by the time your five.” 

Trazu shrugged.  “I’ve done well so far without knowing.  Though I admit I am curious, I am not sure I even want to know.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Well.” Trazu straightened up. “I always had the feeling my instructors knew who sired me, or at least who dropped me off.  Yet they never mentioned anything about it to me.  It was just me too, everyone else in the class knew who their fathers were…and which Clan they would go to once they graduated from the class.  They didn’t tell me anything, it’s like they had a gag order on them or something.” He sighed.  “I don’t know…maybe my parents felt I didn’t deserve to know…considering…” 

“Oh don’t start that again.” Tzosha chided. “That is the most obvious possible explanation yes, but not necessarily true.  It could be they were silent to protect your life instead.” 

“Hmm…true.  How our people deal with rivals is rather violent…but that would imply I was the son of someone important: the everyday commoner is pretty much safe from shit like that.” 

Tzosha shrugged.  “Who knows. Maybe you should return to Dosha and try to find out someday.” 

“I would…but I can’t really be bothered to be honest.  Why make my life more complex then it is?” 

“Well if you are the child of someone important, I wouldn’t be surprised if they came around looking for you.  Who knows, maybe they are looking for you now.” 

Trazu shrugged.  “If they do I’ll deal with it then…not one moment before…” 

“Lazy bugger.” T’zosha said, poking him. 

Trazu just chuckled and leaned back against the wall again. 

“By the way…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.” She said after a moment. 

“What’s that?” Trazu said, looking over at her. 

“You flinch every time I touch you, even when you know it’s me: it’s like you have an aversion to being touched. Why is that?” 

Trazu visibly winced and cast his eyes toward the ground.  “I didn’t use to…” He said quietly, straightening up again. “But a certain ‘event’ changed that…” 

“Wha…what happened?” Tzosha asked quietly. 

He looked away, the memory of that incident assaulting his mind.  While it didn’t bother him as much now as it did before, it was still very distressing and he worried about how Tzosha would react if he told her.  He valued her as a friend and feared the news would turn her against him, as impossible as that seemed since she had spoken harshly about that person herself: blood was thicker then water after all.  Plus there was that stigma on people who’d experienced what he did, especially with males, that he’d have to worry about: would she look down upon him now due to this revelation? 

“If you’re uncomfortable about it you don’t have to tell me.” Tzosha said softly. 

“No…” Trazu said, shaking his head and looking back up at her.  “You need to know. I…” He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and with a bit of effort just let it out. “I was raped…Tzosha.” 

Her reaction was one of pure shock: her posture straightened suddenly and her eyes widened, the pupils of which constricted to slits.  “My sister…?” she asked after a long moment of silence.  Trazu simply nodded and she shook her head, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “That’s worse then joining the pirates…I’d never thought…” She sighed.  “Never mind…you were right that day we first met: I _am_ naïve…” 

“No more naïve then I…” Trazu admitted quietly, looking at the ground.  “I was overconfident with my abilities that day…ended up getting hurt to the point where there was little I could do to protect myself. All she had to do was to take my sword and threaten me with it…”  He sighed.  “It’s a terrible feeling to be forced to choose between honor and dignity and ones own life.  Life won that night…but there were times I wondered if I made the wrong choice…” 

“I can’t imagine was it’s like to go through that…” Tzosha said softly.  “I wish I knew what to do to help you…” 

“You already have helped me.” He said, looking up at her. “By proving to my subconscious that not all females were like your sister and helping me get used to being around people again: it would have taken me a lot longer if I hadn’t met you.” 

Tzosha smiled and gently placed her hand on top of his.  “If that’s true, then I hope to continue to help you heal.” She said softly. “If you let me of course.” 

Trazu managed a small smile. “I don’t see why not…thank you.”


	6. Differing Opinions

It felt like a huge weight had been removed off his chest and Trazu felt he could truly move on from that horrible incident at last.  He continued to visit Tzosha over the next couple of months and with her help, soon felt safe enough to start actually staying the night on occasion, usually on weekends when she was off.  However he would always slept on the couch, despite Tzosha’s insistence that since he was the guest she should be the one sleeping on the couch. 

He’d also been having what he considered to be odd dreams the past couple weeks.  Dreams where he and Tzosha were doing things other then just chatting.  They were odd to him because as far as he knew, Trandoshan’s just didn’t do things like that: the fact he considered Tzosha a close friend was rare in on itself.  Trazu didn’t tell Tzosha he was having these dreams, because they were just silly dreams and meant nothing.  Besides in his dreams he was taller then her and that pretty much invalidated any worth of the dreams by itself in his opinion. 

Trazu was in the middle of one of those dreams now as he dozed on the couch.  He and Tzosha were out in one of the many plains on Talus, Tzosha asleep with her head on his chest while he was leaning back against a tree.  She was wearing a tank top with a simple pair of shorts while he just had his pants.  It was one of those ‘lazy day’ type dreams and he was simply enjoying being close to her, stroking her arm lightly with his claws and prompting soft ‘mers’ from her in her sleep.  Why did his chest suddenly feel cold and wet?  It wasn’t just cold either, it was _very_ cold.  It was enough to snap him out of his little dream and back to reality. 

Opening his eyes, he saw Tzosha standing beside the couch holding an ice cube over him and allowing the cold water to drip from it right onto his bare chest. 

“GAH!” Trazu cried as he sat up with a start. 

“Wakey wakey ya lazy bum.” Tzosha said playfully, giggling slightly. 

“That was downright cruel.” Trazu grumbled as he wiped the water off his chest. 

“If you didn’t sleep in so late I wouldn’t be tempted.”  Tzosha said smiling. “Besides it was funny.  You should have seen the look on your face.” 

“Funny eh?  Let’s see how you like it.”  Trazu jumped up and tried to snatch the ice cube from her.  Tzosha however used her height advantage over him and easily kept it out of his reach.  “That’s not fair!” 

Tzosha just laughed and dripped the water over his head teasingly.  Trazu, getting frustrated, swept her feet out from under her.  Tzosha yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the cube.  Trazu immediately grabbed her hand and tried to pry it open.  The pair wrestled a bit, until Tzosha managed to wrest her hand free of Trazu’s grasp and slip the cube down the back of his pants. 

“YIPE!”  Trazu jumped up and danced erratically as he tried to get the cube out, only to cause it to sink even deeper into his pants until it finally slid out through a pants leg.  Tzosha was rolling on the floor laughing all the while.  With a faint snarl, Trazu picked it up and looked at Tzosha with a sly grin on his face. 

“Oh no…” Tzosha said, scrambling to her feet. “Not after where it’s just been.” 

“You shouldn’t have stuck it there then.” Trazu said with a grin as he rushed toward her.  Tzosha bolted and slipped behind a table.  There was a brief merry-go-round as she kept the table firmly between herself and Trazu, hoping the cube would melt completely before he managed to reach her.  It didn’t remain a stand off for long though, for Trazu finally just climbed up on top of the table.  From his high perch he was able to tackle her as she attempted to run away and a second wrestling match ensued as Tzosha frantically tried to keep Trazu from placing the cube against her skin. He won however and she squirmed as he held the cube against her skin.  There wasn't much left of the cube by this time though, so Tzosha didn't have to suffer long.  When it was melted completely the pair sat on the floor leaning against each other, both panting faintly.           

"What the hell were we just doing?" Trazu said suddenly, pulling away abruptly and causing Tzosha to fall over. 

"Playing." Tzosha replied as she picked herself up. 

"'Playing?" Trazu echoed, sounding mildly disgusted.  "Since when did our people act like that?  It’s...unnatural." 

"It's not unnatural." Tzosha said, looking a bit confused at his reaction. 

"We are warriors...hunters...we don't...do...things like that." Trazu insisted. 

"So says the T'Doshok that ran away from home before he could learn everything about his own people." Tzosha said a bit harshly. "Hasn't your time with me taught you anything?  We are not all warriors and hunters Trazu.  There are many of us that don't live the way of the hunt: doctors, merchants,...tailors.  The brutal hunter and warrior you came to know out here is most other species know because that's all we want them to know." 

"Oh please...I am not that ignorant about our people." Trazu said with a faint snarl. "I know we often rely on our own talents for everyday services but we are primarily a hunter and warrior species.  I also know that females like you aren't usually even allowed off planet, unless they are hunters themselves which is rare: usually only sterile females become hunters. Any other time females are nothing but breeding stock." 

Tzosha hissed, obviously offended by his words.  Then without warning she smacked him across the snout, sending him tumbling.  "'Nothing but breeding stock'?" She growled.  "Are you that stupid and ignorant?  Yes we rarely become hunters and it's usually the sterile ones that do become hunters, but we are far from just being breeding stock. We fulfill the roles on our homeworld that you males think are below your standards of worth.  Who fixes your ships?  Who mends your wounds?  Who sells you that expensive weapon you've been looking for?  Not many males do those things themselves, it's mostly us females that do them.  If you ask me...if it wasn't for us girls our people wouldn't have advanced to the stage we are at now. Who knows, maybe it would have been us that became the slaves instead of the Wookiees." 

He barely heard her words, his anger at her for slapping him overriding nearly all reason.  Her finally comment about slaves was the final straw and he leapt at her with a hiss.  The two scuffled a bit before Tzosha managed to flip him over her, Trazu landing hard on his back, leaving him stunned briefly. After he righted himself the pair glared at each other a moment then, both a little bloodied but not hurt seriously, but neither seemed willing to go for each other's throats again. 

"I'm leaving." Trazu said abruptly, moving to gather the few things he had.  "And I won't be coming back." 

"Fine with me." Tzosha hissed. "I'd rather not associate myself with someone that's so closed minded." 

Trazu gave her a final glare and slammed the door behind him as he left.


	7. Confrontation

It's been two weeks since the fight and Trazu couldn't get it out of his head.  He felt guilty for what he had said and realized he not only said things he didn't mean but things he didn't really believe in the first place.  On top of that he felt lonely without her and he was still having those dreams.  He honestly wanted to see her again, but wasn't sure if she would let him back into her life. Of course he wouldn't know if he didn't at least try, but his pride was holding him back: he did say he wouldn't come back and to come back meant he admitted defeat. 

He lingered out in the wilds a couple days more, then found himself back in Dearic, ascending the stairs to her apartment. At first he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but as he lingered in front of her door he finally decided he should at least apologize.  Hesitantly he reached for the doorbell, but stopped when the door suddenly opened, making him jump, Tzosha now standing in the doorway: she looked rather sullen. 

They stared at each other a moment, then finally Tzosha stepped out of the way, motioning for him to come in.  A few more moments of tense silence passed, Trazu almost shrugging off his pack out of pure habit before stopping himself. Now that he was here, he found the words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat and he had difficultly making himself look at her. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tzosha was keeping herself busy by washing off the table, but kept on washing it needlessly: it was evident she too had words she wanted to say but couldn't bring them forth. 

"Tzosha..." Trazu said, hesitantly. "I think that table is clean enough..." 

"Yes...yes it is..." Tzosha said quietly, straightening up and tossing the rag into the sink.  "I keep seeing your footprints on it, though I know it's only in my head.  Silly...isn't it? But it's an unwanted memory that just won't go away..." 

He wasn't sure if she was referring to their fight or him as a whole. However there was something in her demeanor that bothered him: she seemed nervous and somewhat anxious.  Plus she kept glancing off to one side, toward a section of the room that was hidden from view by a wall.  Then he felt that 'nagging' feeling in the back of his mind, the feeling of something being very 'wrong' here. Looking at her eyes, he saw fear: fear of what though? 

"You must leave..." She said quietly, now staring hard in the direction she was glancing in before.  "Quickly before..." 

"Too late for that now." A familiar voice said behind him.  Trazu felt his blood freeze and panic start to overwhelm him: he didn't need to turn around to know who that was.  Immediately the memory of that one night pushed it's way to the front of his mind, reminding him of the fear, the helplessness, the shame she forced on him.  He knew he should stand up to her, after all he wasn't injured like he was before, but he was paralyzed with fear. "Isn't this a surprise?" The female cooed. "My short little T'Doshok friend, coming right up to the doorstep of my sister."           

"I am not...your friend." Trazu managed quietly, having to force the words through a tightened throat. 

"I'm not?" She said, stepping around in front of him.  He noted she wore the colors of the pirate gang now and sported a small blaster. "Oh I am so hurt...after all the fun we had too...." 

"Leave him alone Zista." Tzosha hissed quietly.  "You've made him suffer enough as is." 

"Oh can it sis." Zisha said, rolling her eyes.  "You were always the softy of the family: even mother was ruthless enough to know when to take advantage of a situation." 

"Mother's actions never did bodily or emotional harm to others." Tzosha countered. "What you did was heartless, even for our people." 

"You seem to forget one thing sis. With our people only the fittest survive: if he really didn't want it he would have fought me with everything he had. But he didn't, instead allowing his own sword to intimidate him enough to do as I wanted.  I dare say he actually enjoyed it..." 

Trazu was taken back by her last statement: that wasn't true at all.  He even felt somewhat insulted she would even suggest such a thing. "Only in your twisted mind." He hissed. 

"Oh really?  I bet I can prove it.  Here and now." She grinned maliciously.  "I got something better then your stupid sword to make you do what I want this time too." She brandished her pistol.  Trazu hissed in response, but beyond that he couldn't make himself do anything, his body unwilling to release itself from fears grip. 

"No...I won't let you do that to him!" Tzosha growled, starting to rush up behind her.  Zista whirled around and leveled the weapon at her, Tzosha freezing in her tracks and Trazu's heart skipping a beat. 

"Do not interfere sis..." Zista hissed warningly. "I suggest you back off like a good sister and let me do what I want." 

Tzosha however stood her ground, growling.  The two sisters were only a couple feet from each other, Zista's weapon pointed at Tzosha's chest.  Trazu was shaking his head, his mouth agape.  He wasn't sure if he should feel touched that she was standing up to Zista for him or embarrassed she had to do it for him. Either way, the possibility she would get hurt due to this he found distressing, yet still he couldn't get himself to act. 

The stand off continued for a few moments.  Then suddenly Tzosha swung up and slashed Zista across the face with her claws, leaving a few bright scarlet wounds across her face.  Due to reflex however, the gun went off and Tzosha was blown back, a black charred spot on her shoulder.  With a cry of pain Tzosha clutched her shoulder, felt to one knee and whimpered softly. 

 _Tzosha!_   Trazu felt guilt wash over him.  Because of his weakness he couldn't stand up to Zista himself.  No.  It was Zista's fault.  She did this to him, made him fear her and unable to act, unable to prevent this.  He felt anger and rage building up inside him and start pushing aside the fear, unparalyzing his limbs and mind. 

"Little bitch..." Zista hissed, wiping the blood off her face.  "You were always getting in the way, always trying to hold me down.  I should have gotten rid of you long ago.  Well I can fix that now." 

Trazu watched as she leveled her weapon again at Tzosha, but this time he wasn't going to stand helplessly by and watch.  With a cry of denial, he leapt forward,  his sword seemingly to fly out of it's sheath on it's own accord and into his hand.   Zista looked in his direction and to her credit recognized the danger right away and spin around to face him, only to have her hand chopped off by Trazu's fine blade. It took a moment for it to register that her hand, along with her gun, was now on the floor.  She screamed in agony, clutching her suddenly shorter limb with her uninjured one.  To a Trandoshan a loss of limb was actually a minor thing, for they grow them back within a couple months, however she was now in a very dicey situation without her weapon and a healthy, uninjured, and pissed off Trazu facing her. 

"H…how..." She stammered as she backed away. "You couldn't even move a moment ago." 

"You hurt her...that's how." Trazu hissed dangerously, advancing on her with his sword at the ready.  "See how it feels bitch?  Understand what it's like to feel helpless and afraid now?  Yes I was too weak then, and you had a mental hold over me.  Not anymore.  I do not fear you now and what you did no longer controls my life.  So If you value your pathetic life I suggest you leave...now." 

Zista stared at him a moment, then with a hiss she ran for the door.  "You'll pay for this...both of you!" She growled before disappearing out the door. 

Trazu stared long and hard at the door, a part of him wanting to pursue and finish her.  He nearly did, but a moan from Tzosha redirected his attention to what was more important at that moment.  Setting down his sword he knelt beside her and coached her hand away from the wound so he could inspect it. It wasn't serious, her scaly hide prevented the bolt from penetrating deeply, but from her whimpering you'd think she had lost a limb. 

"You're a wuss you know that?" Trazu said teasingly, shaking his head. 

Tzosha managed a smile.  "I'm not a fighter like you, so I am entitled to be a 'wuss'." 

Trazu chuckled and fetched the first aid kit.  As he cleaned her wound they were silent, a silence very much like it was a few moments ago. 

"Tzosha..." Trazu said quietly, breaking the silence. "I...I'm sorry.  That day I...I don't know what came over me...and said things I didn't mean." 

"We both did." Tzosha said softly. "And our trademark short temper didn't help us either." 

He chuckled half heartedly.  "I admit I've been feeling a bit confused." He said softly. "Between what I've been taught, what I've heard to expect from our people, and my own...feelings."  He sighed.  "I felt lonely when I left." 

"As did I...and I feared I would never see you again." 

Trazu stared at her for a moment.  Did she just admit something that is frowned upon by his people? Something that's considered an even worse taboo then friendship? Then again, is that 'fact' about their people just another mask to keep them from being perceived as weak?  Did his dreams and his recent action mean he was having the same 'blasphemous' feelings as well?  It was too confusing and he shook his head, pushing those thoughts and feelings away. 

"If your sister is to be believed." He said, changing the subject.  "We should probably move." 

"I agree." Tzosha said, standing. "She may not be a direct threat to us, but if the boosts she was giving me earlier are true she has enough rank in that gang to convince some lackeys to come after us."  There was pause, then she added.  "Wait...you said 'we should move'." 

"I did?" Trazu said, realizing he subconsciously felt he lived with her now.  Beside himself with embarrassment, he blushed. He blushed even more when Tzosha commented that he looked 'cute' when he blushed.


	8. Kidnapped

They moved to a new place within a week after that encounter.  The new place was a nice little house just on the edge of Dearics city line and Trazu ensured the rent was within Tzosha’s paycheck: while he did provide the down payment out of his own funds he didn’t have a steady income like she did.  The location enabled Trazu to come and go as he pleased more easily and soon found himself staying at her place for longer periods. 

Like at the old place, they spent most of their time sitting outside, talking.  He wasn’t consciously aware of it, but was sitting closer and closer to her during these sessions.  Trazu was even starting to allow her to gently caress him in shows of affection, finding such sensations to be rather pleasant and appealing.  He started to wonder what life would be like if he didn’t have Tzosha, but found he couldn’t imagine it.  One day, three months later, he remembered Rane’s final lesson: becoming too dependant on someone or something can be a hindrance in ones development. 

Was he getting too dependent on Tzosha?  Too clingy?  On the surface the answer seemed to be yes, but deeper down this situation seemed different then what Rane was pertaining to.  It dawned on him what exactly he had been doing the past few months and it both frightened and confused him.  He had seen humans and other species do things similar to what he and knew it signs of an emotion called ‘love’ with them.  But were his people even capable of that emotion in that context?  Forming a bond of friendship was rare but not unheard of, however an actual relationship he now felt was starting to develop he had never heard of before with his people.  A part of him wanted to ask Tzosha, but he remembered last time he questioned what he perceived to be an ‘odd’ behavior and didn’t want to end up in another fight with her.  Plus he felt a bit embarrassed by the prospect of asking her.  So instead he pulled away from her. 

“What’s wrong? He heard her ask. 

For a moment Trazu remained quiet, conflicting thoughts and feelings in his head.  “I don’t know.” He replied finally, honestly. “I…need time to think…I think…on my own.” 

“Think about what?” 

“I’d…rather not say.  Not until I am sure.” He looked over at her. “But I don’t know how long it will take.” 

Tzosha smiled, then to his shock leaned over and nuzzled him tenderly on the cheek, a soft ‘merr’ emitting from her throat. It was clear what her position was.  “Take what time you need.” She said softly. “I’ll wait.” 

“I…I…”  Trazu stammered, fully aware of the heat of the blush in his cheeks. “I’ll be back in two days…I promise.” 

“As long as you come back in one piece.” 

“Of course.” 

*** 

Trazu was laying on his back, staring at the stars above, a small campfire crackling close by.   He was letting his mind simply wander and found himself thinking about Tzosha most of the time, along with the stereotypes he was led to believe about his own people, which is what he came out here to think about in the first place.  Not doubting how he felt, he just wanted to figure out if it was ‘odd’ or ‘wrong’ for him to feel this way about someone.  All the stereotypes said his people were rather cold emotion wise and violent.  Well he did fit the violent stereotype in many situations, though he didn’t go out of his way to look for things to kill save for when he was hungry. 

”The brutal hunter and warrior you came to know out here is most other species know because that's all we want them to know.” He remembered Tzosha say doing there little spat a few months ago.  Was it really true that those stereotypes were purposely reinforced and serve as a mask?  Were his people more friendly at some point in time only to be forced to put up a mask when threatened so their ‘weakness’ couldn’t be exploited?  If so, have they worn that mask for so long that they now actually believe in it? 

As he pondered, he recalled a memory from his early years, before he fled the homeword... 

***

_He remembered it like it was yesterday, he was sitting in a classroom with about two dozen other Trandoshan’s his age, all male.  They didn’t have chairs or desks to sit at like you would see with other races, no they either stood or sat on the cold concrete floor, which was stained with the blood of who knows how many animals the instructors would use as ‘practice targets’ for both killing and skinning techniques.  As a result the room always smelled like rotting flesh and blood._

_This day they were just being taught history and like many other students Trazu was fighting to stay awake: did history have to be so boring? At least until the subject of Wookiees came up, then everyone was sitting forward, Trazu included for he was curious about the races that lived beyond his homeworld.  But as he listened, instead of feeling outraged or overjoyed like the other students, he felt sympathetic and disgusted._

_“Why?” He finally asked._

_“Why what?” The instructor said, slightly annoyed at being interrupted._

_“Why must we hurt them.” Trazu said._

_“I just explained why.” The instructor growled._

_Trazu shook his head.  “They had every right to defend their homeland.  If we were in their place we would have reacted the same way would we not?”_

_“They are animals: they have no rights.”  The instructor said bluntly._

_Trazu frowned and shook his head. “The fact that they were able to replicate our technology and use it for themselves suggests otherwise don’t you think?  Besides…you said yourself that they had a position on the Galactic Senate, which means other races seem them as more then just ‘animals’.”  He knew he was angering the instructor, but the words would not stop coming.  His biggest mistake was what he said next. “Considering the fact that we didn’t have a spot in the Galactic Senate, perhaps we are the ones that are considered animals by them?”_

_The silence was so complete that Trazu could only hear his own breathing and the low threatening growl coming from the instructor.   He should have taken that and the fact he was now alone: the other students had quickly moved away from him, as a hint that he was out of line and should be running.  But the pride his people are so known for had him standing proud, tall, and unafraid as the instructor stormed up to him._

_For a moment he just stared at him, then suddenly and without warning the instructor struck him.  The blow was hard enough to send him flying a short distance across the floor._

_“Do not question our methods runt.” He heard the instructor say._

_“We…we should have negotiated with them.” Trazu said stubbornly as he struggled to his feet._

_The next thing he knew he was being lifted off the floor as the instructor grabbed him by the shirt.  “We do not negotiate with anyone.”   He heard before he was sent flying again, and blackness claimed him._  

*** 

Trazu subconsciously rubbed the back of his head.  He remembered waking up alone and cold in that room some unknown time later and from that point on his standing in class was barely above the dirt under ones feet.  It was curious why they didn’t just kill him: others he had heard were culled for less ‘blasphemous’ reasons.  But none the less, the memory told him that either Tzosha didn’t know what she was talking about, or his people really have been living under a mask for so long they started to believe it.  Either way, it didn’t help his current dilemma. 

Why should it matter if it’s ‘normal’ for us or not? He thought. It’s not like I have any intention of going back to Dosha anyway.  He also figured that since he was born in Hsskhor, the Capital of Trandosha, it would be more ‘strict’ there and Tzosha was likely from another city where things weren’t so cut and dry.  But that left him needing to ask her, which he came out here to avoid in the first place.  With a sigh, thinking ‘why not’, he got up and started packing. 

He was about half way home when he felt an urge to get home in a hurry.  This left him puzzled: yes he was eager to see her again, but this seemed different.  Without realizing it he found himself quickening his pace, the nagging sensation in the back of his mind getting stronger.  He started running at full tilt when it dawned on him something was very wrong, his sixth sense going off like crazy.  

Ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs and legs, he kept running until he burst through into the clearing that was just before their house.  At first everything seemed fine, but that nagging feeling was still there, keeping him on his guard and making him jog to the front door.  He reached to punch in the access code, only to find the controls had been sliced, the panel covering hanging off.  A sickening feeling setting in his stomach he pushed the panel back into place and punched in the code: thankfully the door still responded and opened without a problem. 

Inside were obvious signs of a struggle: furniture knocked out of place, clumps of someone’s hair here and there, as well as a few blood spots.  Drawing his sword, Trazu searched the house, calling for Tzosha and praying she was alive and unhurt.  He found no bodies, no ransom notes, nothing.  Trazu felt despair grip his heart: she was gone, her fate unknown and he never got a chance to truly tell her how he felt. 

He cut loose a howl of grief and despair, feeling lost, alone, and grief stricken.  It only lasted a moment though, for a boiling rage soon took over.  He will have his revenge, oh yes.  They made a big mistake: not only did they piss of a Trandoshan, but they pissed off a Trandoshan _Ranger_. 

You can run…but you can’t hide….


	9. Bloodrage

The trail was easy to find, easier to follow and Trazu traveled as fast as he could: the sooner he found the culprits, the sooner he will know Tzosha’s fate and punish those responsible. He was forced to make camp and rest a few hours due to sheer exhaustion, since he had been on the go since the previous morning.  Sleep was restless for him though, nightmares of what could be happening, if not already happened, to Tzosha plaguing his mind. Thus his eagerness to find her was renewed when he picked up the trail again. 

By that afternoon the trail ended at an old remote storehouse far from civilization.  The place was likely set up by gangs and pirates themselves rather then legitimate parties: who else would use a place so remote?  However why the building was there was not important to him, for with the lack of any fresh trail leading away from the location it meant he had found where they had taken Tzosha.  Not seeing any guards about, he strode right up to the place and found the door open. 

Idiots.  Assuming I wouldn’t come after them… He thought as he walked in.  His sixth sense was nagging at him, trying to tell him something wasn’t right, but he ignored it, rescuing, or avenging, Tzosha at the forefront of his mind. 

The storehouse was like one big room with a few smaller offices along the sides and from the number of crates and various other storage containers the place was in active use.  The containers were all stacked high enough to prevent him from looking over them and set up kind of like a maze; making searching the place and keeping an eye out for guards an annoying affair.  His sword at the ready, Trazu picked his way through the maze of containers and soon found a large open space within the maze.  He saw Tzosha on the far end of that open space, tied up between two poles. 

“Tzosha…” He breathed as he ran toward her, forgetting he was in enemy territory.  He ignored the fact that it was strange he had yet to see a guard and that Tzosha was shaking her head madly, unable to speak due to a gag. By the time his sixth sense had sounded off loud enough for him to have no choice but to take heed it was too late. 

There was a sudden loud bang and Trazu found himself suddenly blown off his feet by a large sonic burst.  He smashed against a support pole, his sword flying from his hand, and fell to the ground.  Stunned and the world spinning in his vision, Trazu struggled to get back up to his feet and shake the stars out of his head.  He was dimly aware of the sudden appearance of dozens of pirates, but he didn’t get a chance to react to their appearance, as a sudden sharp blow to the head rendered him completely unconscious. 

*** 

His head ached as he regained consciousness, his vision taking a moment to sharpen and clear.  He found himself tied up across from Tzosha, stripped of everything including all his clothing, even his bracelet. At first he felt embarrassed that he was being seen by Tzosha in a manner usually only reserved for bathing and the most intimate of situations, but he quickly reminded himself that this was no time for modesty.  He looked Tzosha over from his position: she looked a bit roughed up and slightly bruised, but otherwise not injured. 

“I’m sorry…I…” Trazu started to say, but found words failing him.  Tzosha seemed to catch what he was trying to say, for she slowly shook her head, her eyes full of forgiveness. With a sigh, Trazu turned to study his restraints: maybe he can get them out of there before their captures returned. 

He was tied up in a similar manner as Tzosha was, bond with a strong polymer based cord.  Trazu moved one hand around, attempting to loosen the cord enough so he could slip his hand through, but the cord held fast and he only rubbed his hide raw for the effort: he already knew he lacked the leverage and the strength to break the cord with brute force and his claws weren’t sharp enough to cut through them. 

“About time you woke up.” A familiar voice said.  Trazu turned and his eyes narrowed at the figure that appeared.  Zista was leaning against one of the crate, looking smug and sure of herself and holding some sort of whip in her regenerated hand.  “I was afraid my minions had hit you too hard.” 

“You…” Trazu growled hatefully, straining against his bonds. 

“Now, now.” She said teasingly.  “Don’t get yourself worn out now, there’s a lot of fun to be had before we are done here.”  Zista said as she walked up to him.  “I have plans for you, you see.  You have a lot of spunk, which I like, but too much will.  So...so that I can do what I want with you, I need to break you in.” 

“You mean make me your slave.”  Trazu hissed.  “I’ll die first before letting myself sink to that level.” 

Zista merely chuckled.  “Now, thanks to our last encounter, I knew to anticipate that kind of attitude.  That’s why I captured your little friend here…” She gestured toward Tzosha, whose eyes widened. 

Trazu’s own eyes widened.  “Leave her alone.” He said warningly. 

“Or what?” Zista laughed. “You’re not in any position to stop me are you?  Submit to me…or she pays.” 

Trazu felt torn between his own dignity and his feelings for Tzosha.  He didn’t want Tzosha to be hurt because of him, but he didn’t want to become someone’s slave either.  Tzosha was madly shaking her head, but Trazu couldn’t if she was trying to tell him not to fall for her blackmail or what. 

“No answer?” Zista said as she walked over to Tzosha and ripped her gag off.  “Maybe hearing her scream a few times will loosen your tongue.”  She looked back at Trazu with a malicious smile.  “They do say…that if you strike someone with this kind of whip too many times they suffer permanent brain damage…I wonder how many times that has to be…” 

“Don’t submit to her…” Tzosha said bravely. “No matter what happens to me!” 

“Now now sis…” Zista said as she moved around behind her.  “Let him decide that.”  The low hum of the whip being turned on could be heard.  Then there was a brief streaking flash as Zista raised the whip and snapped it sharply against Tzosha’s back. 

He could tell she really tried hard not to scream, but the pain was too much for her and her scream tore into Trazu’s heart.  Just as painful was the spasms he could see coursing through her helpless body and he crushed his eyes close so he could not see it.  But he could not shut his ears.  Much to his distress, he could not choose his pride over Tzosha or Tzhosha over his pride.  He found himself sinking deeper into despair. Why can’t I be strong enough to have both? 

An image flashed in his mind, no a memory, of the battle he fought with the K’Satikur and reminded of that rage he had gone into then.  Yes, that’s it.  If he could go into that mode again…. 

But wait.  He was mindless killer then, what if he killed Tzosha while in that mode?  As another scream echoed in his ear drums, he overheard one pirate whisper to another: _‘won’t matter what he does…boss intends to kill her anyway from what I ‘ere.’_. 

Hearing that made the decision for him: it was their only chance, no Tzosha’s only chance.  What happened to him he didn’t care anymore, all he cared about was make sure Tzosha survived. He reached down deep inside of him and found that mode deceptively easily and embraced it. 

The familiar surge of strength came into his limbs and he strained with all his might against his restraints.  Suddenly the cord on one hand snapped, making him swing wildly and almost lose his footing.  Quickly he reached over and attacked the second cord, the cries of Zista’s disbelief and ordering her minions to stop him barely registering.  Before they reached him though the second cord came free and his vision became filled with a blood red haze. 

When his vision cleared the floor was slick with the blood of his enemies, he himself was coated with it.  His body ached and threatened to collapse under him as he forced himself stagger toward Tzosha, who was slumped over unconscious, or worse.  He collapsed against one of the poles that she was bound to and forced himself to start working on untying her, his mind threatening to lose consciousness with every movement.  The task was made even more difficult due to the fact his fingers had deep lacerations and the blood was making the cord slick and difficult to grasp.  Finally one of her hands was free, but before he could move himself so he could free her second hand his body gave up on him. 

 _Tzosha…please be alright…_ He thought as the world turned black….


	10. A New Beginning

It had been a slaughter, the pirates that were immediately around him being the first to fall, using his claws and teeth as weapons.  Zista had tried to restrain him with the whip, but he had caught its line with his bare hands and yanked it from her grasp, hence the lacerations on his hands. He had discarded the whip after that, preferring to use more ‘personal’ weapons to tear into the pirates.  Oddly, he didn’t remember killing Zista: it was likely she slipped away while he was occupied with her minions. Then again there was so much chaos he couldn’t tell if he had killed her or not: same with Tzosha. 

The conscious world started seeping back into his mind, the sounds of birds chirping and the warmth of the sun on his skin.  Wait.  Birds?  Sun?  He opened his eyes to find himself back in his own home.  Was that whole ordeal just a bad dream?  No, he quickly realized when he felt how much his body ached as he tried to sit up and his hands were bandaged. 

 _How did I get back here?_ He thought.  The answer came when a familiar face walked into the room: it felt like the weight of a thousand worlds was just lifted off his shoulders.  “Tzosha…” 

Tzosha, who looked a little weak but otherwise healthy and wearing a simple robe, smiled and sat on the bed next to him.  Unable to control himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her the best he could with his injured hands.  If his own hands hadn’t been so thickly bandaged, he would have felt the bandaging on her back.  “I was starting to worry that you would never wake up.” Tzosha said as she hugged him back.  “I…hope you didn’t mind that I gave you a bath….” 

Trazu felt the heat of a blush when he got that mental image.  Without thinking he blurted out. “Of course I do…I wanted to be awake for that.”  Tzosha laughed and gently pushed away from him. “So…what happened after I blacked out?” He asked. 

“We were alone when I came to.” Tzosha explained. “All the pirates were either dead or had fled.  I was able to free myself the rest of the way and carried you outside.  Don’t give me that look Traz…you’re not that heavy and you know it, though it was still difficult considering my own injuries.”  Trazu huffed but didn’t say anything, nodding for her to continue.  “I found a landspeeder, but couldn’t find the keys for it and I didn’t know a thing about hot rigging the thing.  Fortunately someone came by and did it for me.” 

“Who?” Trazu asked. 

“It was a scruffy looking human.  Didn’t give his name, but claimed to know you. He didn’t stick around though, after starting the speeder up for me.” 

“Rane…” Trazu said quietly. “It had to be.” 

“Must have been.  He stopped by not long before you woke up, to drop this off.”  She reached under the bed and pulled out a long object: it was his sword.  “He said not to lose it again.” 

Trazu chuckled as he accepted it and set it beside him.  “Yep…that was Rane.  Wish I was awake to tell him I didn’t lose it on purpose.” 

“There’s….something else…” Tzosha said, sounding slightly nervous. 

“Oh? What’s that?” 

“Well, while you were taking your long nap I have been thinking. Actually…it was something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”  She reached back under the bed and pulled out a box that was a foot wide and long and half a foot high. “I was surprised they didn’t loot the house when they captured me.  A good thing…as this…cost me a lot.” 

“What is it?” Trazu asked, curious about what’s in the box.  He reached for it but Tzosha pulled it away. 

“Before I show you, there’s something I must ask first.” She said. 

“Ok.  And what is that?” 

“Well…I was wondering…I mean…we’ve known each other for while now and been through a lot so I….would you…I was wondering…” She sighed, frustrated with herself. “Gods I sound so stupid…”  She looked up him, an expectant look in her eyes.  It seemed she was hoping he would know what she was trying to ask, but Trazu was clueless, his face having a puzzled look to it.  With another sigh she put the box on his lap. Trazu studied the box for a moment. It was a very plain looking box, no telltale markings on it and a simple hinged lid.  With some effort he opened the lid. 

The inside was filled with silver velvet wrapped around a cushioning foam. In slots molded into the foam were two long golden bracelets.  One was smaller then the other, but both bore the same design, which was simple, yet elegant. At first Trazu didn’t get it, but then it slammed into him like a herd of stampeding paralopes. 

He stared at her, his mouth agape: Tzosha only gave him a small, some what bashful, smile.  Trazu gave her a look that plainly said ‘why me?’.  Tzosha reached up with one hand and stroked his cheek. “Despite your…short comings…”  She said.  “I’ve grown very fond of you Trazu.  You didn’t have to help me all those times…in fact, most T’Doshok wouldn’t have, but you did.  A T’Doshok with a heart like yours is a rare thing Trazu and you have captured my heart.  I only hope I managed to catch yours…” 

Trazu was quiet for a long time.  “You did…” He said finally. “But I didn’t know…wasn’t sure want it meant…until now.  Is this…?” 

“’Unusual for us?’” Tzosha finished for him.  “Yes and no.  No in that marriage arrangements between families is rather common, even expected.  Yes, because for two T’Doshok to actually develop such feelings for each other is rather rare, or at the very least, not publicly displayed.” 

“I see.”  With a bit of effort he lifted the smaller bracelet out of its place in the box.  “I’m guessing this one is mine?” He said with a small smile. 

Tzosha giggled, leaned over, and kissed him.


End file.
